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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974866">you don't have to hide your love away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhailos/pseuds/mikhailos'>mikhailos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, First Pride, Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 10, Pride Parades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:02:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhailos/pseuds/mikhailos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Sodalite: Sodalite brings order and calmness to the mind. It encourages rational thought, objectivity, truth and intuition, along with the verbalization of feelings. Sodalite brings emotional balance and calms panic attacks. It enhances self-esteem, self-acceptance and self-trust.”</i><br/>___<br/>Ian and Mickey attend their first pride together as a married couple.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you don't have to hide your love away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbitalexis/gifts">lilbitalexis</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/gifts">didipickles</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>finally dipping my toes into writing for these two idiot lovebirds. thank you endlessly to <a href="http://archiveofourown.com/users/didipickles">didipickles</a> for being my incredible &amp; intense beta, my cheerleader, and my one-person support group. thank you to <a href="http://archiveofourown.com/users/lilbitalexis">lilbitalexis</a> for also beta'ing and feeding so many wonderful ideas into my brain. and thank you to our little shameless discord, which basically just consists of screaming over these gay dummies. </p><p>also, this is set ideally present-day, but y'know. covid-free times.</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>About halfway through an episode of The Great British Bake Off (Mickey’s newest guilty pleasure), Ian turns to Mickey, looking at him for a solid 30 seconds before Mickey finally has enough and whips his head around to face Ian.</p><p>“The fuck’re you starin’ at?” he asks, trying to sound threatening even though they both know he doesn’t mind it, not from Ian.</p><p>Ian shrugs, shaking his head slightly before he speaks. “Chicago Pride’s this weekend. I was thinking of going. You wanna go?” </p><p>Mickey scoffs, his eyebrows raising incredulously. </p><p>“What, like that gay parade when all the dudes walk around with their dicks out?”</p><p>“It’s more than that, Mick. It’s a celebration, y’know? Being around other gay people and shit.”</p><p>“We’ve been married for like 5 months, Ian, ain’t that a gay enough celebration?”</p><p>Ian chuckles softly, shaking his head, turning his focus back to watch Paul Hollywood judge a 3-tier wedding cake.</p><p>“I’m not forcin’ you to go, Mickey. I just thought it’d be a — a thing we could do together.”</p><p>Mickey hums in response, shuffling down on the couch and crossing his arms.</p><p>It’s not that Mickey doesn’t necessarily <em>want </em>to go to pride with Ian, he just doesn’t understand the need to parade your sexuality around, throwing glitter everywhere. Mickey’s comfortable in himself, in his sexuality — the whole parade thing just isn’t his thing. If Ian wants to go, he can go. He trusts Ian. </p><p>On the other hand — Mickey thinks back on how far he’s come, how far he and Ian have come. Ian has been there for him every step of the way, whether Mickey wanted him there or not. No more waiting for Terry to eventually find out, no more walls to protect himself. He’s hidden for most of his life. Maybe it’s finally time to start celebrating instead.</p><p>Mickey pushes himself off of the couch with a grunt, passing behind the couch to gently tug Ian's head back by the hair. </p><p>“I ain’t wearin’ no glittery shit, Gallagher,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of Ian’s head and letting him go. </p><p>Mickey grins to himself as he walks upstairs, heading towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. He hears the TV turn off, the <em>clink</em> of their bowls of ice cream being dropped in the sink, then the dull <em>thuds</em> of Ian heading up the stairs. As he rinses and spits into the sink, he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and a chin resting on the back of his shoulder.</p><p>“Hey,” Ian says softly, and Mickey watches him turn his head to press a soft kiss to Mickey’s temple. </p><p>“Hey, uh. Thanks,” Mickey mutters.</p><p>Mickey untangles himself to face Ian, settling his hands on Ian’s waist as Ian’s arms drape around his neck.</p><p>“You know it’s a space for you too, right, Mick? You’ll be safe there,” Ian says carefully, reaching to brush an invisible strand of hair from Mickey’s temple, sliding his hand down to cup the back of his head. </p><p>Mickey gives Ian a small smile, nodding.</p><p>“I know. You know I just gotta bitch about it first.”</p><p>Ian chuckles, scratching at the hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck, pulling him in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Mister ‘Fuck-U Up’, hm?” </p><p>With a playful shove to Ian’s shoulders, Mickey quickly turns them to press Ian against the bathroom door, pinning him in place with strong hands on Ian’s hips. </p><p>“You got a problem with that, huh, tough guy?” </p><p>Ian just grins down at Mickey, hands settling on Mickey’s hips. </p><p>“Mm, and what if I do, huh? What’re you gonna do about it, bitch?” Ian challenges.</p><p>Mickey’s eyebrows fly up, grinning as he reaches behind Ian to turn the doorknob and shoves them both down the hallway towards their bedroom, shirts discarded on the hallway floor along the way.</p><p>*****************************************</p><p>Mickey trudges up the stairs the next evening after work and hears Ian in their room, a dull <em>thud</em> of a drawer closing and another opening. As he rounds the corner, he can see a small pile of clothes on the foot of their bed, and Ian, rifling through one of the drawers in their dresser. </p><p>“‘Ey, what’s with Mount Everest over here?”</p><p>Ian looks over at Mickey, pausing his deep-dive for a moment to pull his husband into a soft, slow kiss.</p><p>“Hey. Missed you today. Tryin’ to figure out what to wear to Pride this weekend. You thought about it?”</p><p>“What, is there like a fuckin’ uniform or some shit I don’t know about?”</p><p>Ian chuckles, shakes his head. “Nah, man, it’s just. Pride’s a place where people can dress more… freely, I guess. Like — maybe instead of those ratty-ass jeans you’re always wearing, maybe a pair of shorts for a change?”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Mickey throws back with a grin. “I told you, I ain’t wearing nothin’ glittery or any shit like that. What’s wrong with my normal clothes?”</p><p>“I didn’t say there was anything wrong, Mick, just sayin’! A lot of people wear stuff they don’t normally as an act of… expression, y’know? It’s called <em>pride </em>for a reason. And some people like to wear it on their sleeves — literally,” Ian adds with a smile and a small shrug. </p><p>After a deep reach into the back of the drawer, Ian pulls out a light tan shirt and holds it up in a triumphant display. </p><p>“Absolutely no fuckin’ way, Ian.” Mickey glares at him and the shirt with the big, bold letters spelling <em>“GAY JESUS” </em>across the front that Ian holds in his hand.</p><p>“What if I cut the sleeves off, made it into a crop top — that’d be cute, huh?” </p><p>“No, it fuckin’ wouldn’t,” Mickey says, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his chest. </p><p>Under any other circumstance, maybe he’d allow it. But seeing that logo, seeing the likeness of Ian on that shirt, it doesn’t sit right with Mickey. It makes him think back to what Ian had told him after he’d gotten himself thrown in Cook County Correctional — blowing up a van, the long manic episodes, and all of the shit in between. Sure, the whole ‘Gay Jesus’ thing was funny to think about, in hindsight. Joking about it helps Ian cope, Mickey knows this. But knowing what the consequences were for Ian, seeing him after it all, seeing him <em>through</em> after it all — he just can’t. </p><p>“What, why not? I think it’s hilarious.”</p><p>“Ian, just. Just fuckin’ humor me, okay? Anyways, don’t you have like, literally any other shirts to wear instead of that thing?”</p><p>Ian hmms, tosses the shirt into the pile, and goes back to digging through the drawer. He rummages for a minute, turns back to Mickey, flashing a million-watt smile as he slowly pulls out a pair of shiny gold shorts, giving a small body roll before walking over to Mickey.</p><p>“Nah, nah, nah, no fuckin’ way.” Mickey backs himself up, hitting the door frame as Ian walks closer.</p><p>“What, you don’t think they’re sexy, Mick?”</p><p>Mickey huffs out a sigh. What he wants to say is <em>‘I can’t look at those fuckin’ things without thinking about picking you up off the snow and carrying your coked-out ass home’</em>. What he wants to say is <em>‘They remind me of the scariest fuckin’ period of my life, Ian’. </em>Instead, Mickey just shakes his head, and throws his hands up.</p><p>“I, uh, I really don’t like the idea of you walkin’ around in public with half your ass hangin’ out, Gallagher.”</p><p>“That’s the best excuse you’ve got?” </p><p>“C’mon, man. Just- find somethin’ else, alright? I’m sure you’ve got some other equally gay shit, hm?”</p><p>Ian gives Mickey a once-over and cocks an eyebrow. “Sure, Mick.”</p><p>He returns to the drawer, turning to Mickey with another grin, before slowly pulling out a jumble of straps, buckles and metal. “Oh, you’d look <em>super</em> hot in this.”</p><p>“What the fuck is that.”</p><p>Ian shuffles the straps around a bit, holding them up to his chest.</p><p>“Chest harness — you sure you don’t wanna wear it?”</p><p>“Ian, c’mon, man,” Mickey grumbles.</p><p>“Hey. Look, all I’m saying is — wear whatever the fuck you want, no one there’s gonna judge you or some shit. I bet you could show up fuckin’ <em>naked</em> and no one would bat an eye.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ — alright, fine. Look, I’ll think about it, ‘kay? Now put all that shit back. Looks like a gay club outfit warehouse fuckin’ threw up in here.”</p><p>Ian smiles softly at Mickey, dropping the harness back on the bed, and pulls him in gently by the hips. </p><p>“Hey — I love you, y’know,” Ian murmurs against Mickey’s lips.</p><p>“Love you, too. Even after that gay-ass fashion show — you should be grateful,” Mickey counters with a small chuckle.</p><p>“Oh, grateful, hm?” Ian laughs, kissing Mickey slowly. </p><p>*****************************************</p><p>Saturday morning, Mickey wakes up to the feeling of Ian’s gentle fingers tracing back and forth over his shoulders, and smiles into his pillow. Instead of leaning into it like he normally would, he lets Ian continue, soaking in the soft touches, the comfort and safety and warmth of his husband against him. He feels Ian gently draw his hand over the curve where Mickey’s neck meets his strong shoulder, smooths it down the broad planes of Mickey’s arms and torso, stopping when he reaches around to Mickey’s ass and gives it a gentle <em>squeeze</em>. </p><p>“Mm, mornin’,” Mickey mumbles, chuckling sleepily into his pillow.</p><p>“Hey, yourself. So, you gonna let me put you in somethin’ that shows off those pasty-ass gams of yours today?”</p><p>Mickey quickly shifts to face Ian, giving him the best scowl he can for 8:30 in the morning.</p><p>“I didn’t agree to shit, Gallagher.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you got nice legs, Mick. Might help to get a little sun on ‘em every once in a while,” Ian shoots back with a grin. </p><p>Mickey just rolls his eyes, shifts back around and shoves himself out of bed, searching for the boxers he’d thrown off last night. After tugging them on, he heads to the dresser, digging around for a pair of jeans that he could stand to part with. He grabs a plain black muscle tee, and walks off to the bathroom. Maybe he waits to hear Ian start getting dressed before running downstairs to find a pair of scissors and heading back up to the bathroom, and maybe he turns on the shower to stall for time as he slips the jeans on, trying to turn them into shorts without slicing his legs open. Satisfied with his work, he quickly strips, hops in the shower, gives himself a cursory scrub, and towels off. He pulls his new cutoffs on, puts his shirt on, and heads back into the bedroom to find Ian in a pair of black shorts and a white shirt with the word “EQUALITY” printed on the front — each letter a different color of the rainbow. </p><p>“Shirt’s pretty gay, y’know.”</p><p>Ian grins, eyeing Mickey’s raggedly cut shorts. </p><p>“So’re those shorts, bitch.”</p><p>Mickey just chuckles. “You almost ready?”</p><p>“Yeah, lemme just go finish my hair, and I’ll be good.” Ian reaches out to roughly pull Mickey to him by his hips. “By the way, the shorts are hot,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to Mickey’s lips.</p><p>Ian smacks Mickey’s ass on his way to the bathroom, and Mickey laughs to himself, grabbing a pair of socks and pulling them on before slipping on his black boots and lacing them up. Before he heads downstairs to start coffee, he takes a moment to sit on the bed, breathing through the nerves shooting through his veins. He reminds himself that he won’t be there alone, he’ll have Ian with him. Not that he’s gonna freak out or some shit, but. He’s got this. He can do this.</p><p>*****************************************</p><p>As they hop on the El, Mickey doesn’t quite pay attention to where they’re going, just follows Ian when they switch trains, until he realizes they’re getting near Boystown. After a few stops, Ian looks over at Mickey, noticing the nervous shake of his leg.   </p><p>“Hey, you good?” </p><p>Mickey nods, bringing his right hand up to stare at his cuticles. “Yeah. M’fine.”</p><p>“We’re gonna have fun, Mick, I promise. If you wanna leave, we can —”</p><p>“Hey,” Mickey says, cutting him off, “I ain’t gonna pussy out or anything. I just — I don’t fuckin’ know, man.”</p><p>Mickey sighs and looks up, looks around at the train car filled with people dressed in rainbows, wearing flags (most of which he doesn’t recognize), sees the joy on everyone’s faces. </p><p>“It’s like — it doesn’t feel like I fuckin’ belong there. I’m not ‘in’ on all this other queer shit.”</p><p>“That’s not the fuckin’ point, Mickey. Pride is—” Ian stops and sighs before continuing, like he’s trying to find the words. “It’s about celebrating what you and I have. What we <em>get</em> to have. Gay marriage was something that people like you and me fought for — and <em>won.</em> Pride’s about celebrating the fact we were <em>allowed</em> to get married, y’know? It doesn’t matter if you don’t know shit, it’s about like… just fuckin’ being around people like us, and like, throwing a party for everyone. You belong there, Mickey.”</p><p>Ian takes Mickey’s hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to it.</p><p>“Thanks,” Mickey says quietly. </p><p>“Plus, it’s also an excuse to show off my super hot husband to everyone. Show ‘em what they’re missin’ out on,” Ian says with a grin, nudging Mickey’s shoulder.</p><p>“Alright, alright. Keep it in your fuckin’ pants, man. Not lookin’ to get locked up for public indecency today.” Mickey smiles, and presses a soft kiss to Ian’s shoulder.</p><p>The train pulls to a stop outside of the Addison station, and Ian squeezes Mickey's hand before pulling him up and leading him out of the doors. They follow the crowd of people down the steps, look out over all the colors flooding the streets of Boystown, hear the music blasting, and Mickey cracks a small smile. </p><p>“You ready to do this, Milkovich?” </p><p>“Fuck you, just keep walkin’,” Mickey shoots back, grinning wider.</p><p>As they get closer to the street vendors, there’s a group of volunteers in a line towards the front, holding up red buckets and asking for donations for AIDS Foundation Chicago. Ian pulls out his wallet, grabs a ten dollar bill, and tosses it in one of the volunteers’ buckets. They thank him, and hand both Ian and Mickey a temporary tattoo — a small rainbow flag. </p><p>Mickey looks over at Ian, who already has a huge smile on his face, holding up the tattoo. </p><p>“Maybe. <em>Maybe</em>,” Mickey says, almost a warning.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything!” Ian holds his hands up, laughing. </p><p>“Yeah, okay. C’mon, let’s walk around, I guess.”</p><p>Mickey looks at the tattoo again, flipping over the the small piece of paper, then finally pockets it. Ian reaches for Mickey’s hand, and Mickey instinctively flinches, but quickly reminds himself he’s safe here — he’s safe with Ian. There’s no Terrys around to threaten him, no reason to have his guard up. So, he takes Ian’s hand and laces their fingers together and smiles, seeing Ian’s silver wedding ring shine in the sunlight. </p><p>“Hey, let’s go look over here,” Ian suggests, tugging on Mickey’s hand to lead him over to a booth that seems to have handmade jewelry.</p><p>“Hey boys, happy pride! Can I help you find anything?” the vendor asks. </p><p>Mickey looks over at the vendor, who’s wearing a bandana around their neck that’s covered in purple, white, and green stripes, and a large pin that says “THEY/THEM” in big block letters. He makes a mental note to ask Ian about those colors later.</p><p>“Hey, thanks — no, I think we’re just looking right now, thanks,” Ian replies with a smile.</p><p>Mickey looks around at all the different types of jewelry displayed on the table: gemstones wrapped in wire and strung on chains, bracelets made out of what looks like multicolored chainmaille, handmade rings.</p><p>“Hey, uh, what’s this one here?” Mickey asks the vendor, pointing to a blue marble-looking pendant.</p><p>“Oh — here!” The vendor hands Mickey a small paper, listing the name of the stone and a description below it.</p><p>Mickey looks at the paper, not realizing that fuckin’ rocks could have <em>meaning</em>, but reads it anyway. </p><p>
  <em>“Sodalite - Sodalite brings order and calmness to the mind. It encourages rational thought, objectivity, truth and intuition, along with the verbalization of feelings. Sodalite brings emotional balance and calms panic attacks. It enhances self-esteem, self-acceptance and self-trust.”</em>
</p><p>“Can — d’you mind if I look at the thing?” he asks again.</p><p>“Sure, love, go ahead,” they reply, giving Mickey a soft smile.</p><p>Picking up the necklace, Mickey feels the weight of the stone, turning it back and forth in his palm. He doesn’t know why, but holding it in his hand, feeling the smoothness of it, it feels — grounding, he thinks. </p><p>Mickey clears his throat, looks over at Ian, who’s on his phone — probably texting one of the other Gallaghers. He takes a look at the price tag, and quickly fishes two twenty-dollar bills out of his wallet, handing them to the vendor. </p><p>“Thanks, hon! Do you want a bag or box for the necklace?”</p><p>“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” he replies, slipping the necklace on and tucking the pendant under his collar. </p><p>It’s not that he necessarily wants to <em>hide</em> this from Ian, but he likes the idea of having a small little thing for himself. At least for now. A little reminder to maybe stop and take a breath every once in a while.</p><p>“Have fun today and stay hydrated! It’s a hot one today,” they say.</p><p>Mickey nods, smiling, and walks over to Ian.</p><p>“Yo, you good?”</p><p>“Yeah — just wanted to let Debs and Sandy know what we were up to. You get somethin’?”</p><p>“Nah, let’s go look at more shit, yeah?”</p><p>Ian nods, and takes Mickey’s hand again, smiling. They continue down the street, looking at all the different booths. Most of the ones at the front are corporations trying to get you to sign up for some type of membership simply because they’ve got rainbow merch. They all have someone in front, either waving a flag or trying to hand out merchandise to passersby. Ian notices a booth, and tugs on Mickey’s hand, grinning at him.</p><p>“Hey — over here, c’mon!”</p><p>“Slow your roll, man, I’m comin’!”</p><p>Mickey rolls his eyes as Ian drags him toward a booth under a decently-sized black tent, chuckling as the items on the tables come into clearer view.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Ian,” Mickey groans.</p><p>“I have absolutely <em>no idea</em> what you’re talking about, Mickey,” Ian replies, feigning innocence.</p><p>In front of them stands a booth, with multiple tables and shelves displaying a wide array of sex toys of every shape, size, and kink. </p><p>“Welcome, boys — looking for anything in particular?” </p><p>Mickey looks to his right and sees the vendor for this booth — an extremely muscled man, shirtless and covered in thick black body hair, and wearing a chest harness.</p><p>“Well, I think we need a new p-”</p><p>“No, thank you, we’re fine,” Mickey interrupts, glaring at Ian.</p><p>The vendor shrugs, and goes back to setting out more wartenberg wheels on the table in front of him.</p><p>“The fuck, Mick?”</p><p>“I don’t need fuckin’ strangers knowin’ shit about our sex life, Ian.”</p><p>Ian shakes his head and chuckles. “Whatever, I’m gonna go take a look around if you’d care to join me, prude.”</p><p>“ ‘ey, I’m not a fuckin’ — whatever, man,” Mickey grumbles, rolling his eyes and following Ian anyway. </p><p>They walk over to the wall where the plugs are hanging, all various shapes and sizes. Mickey almost audibly gasps at some of them, specifically the ones with fur tails on the ends.</p><p>“You ever try and shove one of those things in my ass, I will murder you in your sleep, Gallagher,” Mickey says, gesturing vaguely in their direction.</p><p>Ian just laughs, nodding. “Alright, Mick. Hey, what about this one?”</p><p>Ian picks up <a href="https://www.adameve.com/adult-sex-toys/anal-sex-toys/butt-plugs/sp-rimmers-model-m-curved-rimming-plug-105780.aspx">a plug</a> in a white box, handing it to Mickey. He looks at the plug, turns the box over to look at the description on the box, and nods a bit as he reads. </p><p>“Yeah, s’fine, I guess.”</p><p>“Be less enthusiastic, I dare you,” Ian jokes. </p><p>Mickey raises his brows, turning to face Ian fully.</p><p>“Ian, would you <em>pretty please</em> shove this plug up my ass?” He even goes as far to bat his eyelashes, smirking up at his husband.</p><p>“Well, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Ian grins and snatches the box out of Mickey’s hands, and walks over to the vendor to pay.</p><p>Mickey rolls his eyes, and wanders off to look at the rest of the toys.</p><p>“Need any water-based lube to go with that?” the vendor asks, typing the price into his phone, and putting the box in a black plastic bag.</p><p>“Actually, yeah—” Ian grabs an 8-ounce bottle of Sliquid off the small table in front of him, handing it to the vendor to ring up and place in the bag.</p><p>“You two married?” he asks, pointing to Ian’s ring.</p><p>“Yeah, five months today, actually,” Ian says, smiling over at Mickey.</p><p>“Congratulations! Listen, I don’t normally do discounts, but I’m gonna give you two a 20% newlywed discount. Brings you to $90 — cash or card?”</p><p>“Thanks so much, man — credit alright?”</p><p>Mickey continues browsing the variety of toys, reading the back of a set of electro-shock nipple clamps. Moves on to inspect the different types of over and under-bed restraints, making a mental note that they’re gonna need a new set of cuffs soon. As he catches sight of a large set of anal beads, he doesn’t hear Ian come up behind him.</p><p>“Ready to go?”</p><p>Mickey jumps at Ian’s voice, nodding. “Yeah, let’s go,” he says quickly, scratching at his left eyebrow. “Where to?”</p><p>“Yeah, I uh, I think I found a booth run by the Chicago Fire Department, wanna go see if they have any EMT shit.”</p><p>“Fire Department, huh? Wasn’t your ex a firefighter?”</p><p>Ian groans, rolling his neck.</p><p>“C’mon, Mick — we’re fuckin’ married, plus I don’t know if Caleb even still-”</p><p>“I’m just bustin’ your balls, man, let’s go,” Mickey says with a laugh, walking off toward the booth.</p><p>“You’re an ass.”</p><p>“Love you too, bitch!” </p><p>Mickey laughs as he jogs up to the booth, hearing Ian hot on his heels. He stands back and watches Ian talk with the EMT running the booth — a petite brunette, her hair up in a tight bun, a glitter lesbian flag painted on one cheek (thanks to Sandy for teaching him that one), a pink heart on the other. He watches as she says something funny, and Ian throws himself back in a full-body laugh, smiling from ear to ear. They’re probably trading stories of their time on the rig, maybe about the crazy shit Paula made Ian do. Mickey feels himself smile too, watching his husband — his <em>husband, god. </em></p><p>Sure, they’d had a decently-sized wedding, declaring their love for each other in front of all their friends and family. But today, they’re going out and showing the <em>world</em>. Surrounded by thousands of strangers, they get to say <em>‘Look what we have. Look how lucky we are. We fuckin’ did it. We made it.’ </em>Mickey twists his wedding ring, feels the smoothness of it against his fingers. Reminds himself of how much he and Ian went through to make it to where they are now. Reminds himself he’s <em>allowed</em> to have this.</p><p>Mickey takes a moment to glance around at the other booths near him. There’s a dog adoption — he watches a few pitbull puppies run around inside the metal gate, rainbow bandanas tied over their collars. He sees a few older kids tie-dyeing t-shirts, a booth advertising custom hand fans, and to his right, a big banner reading <em>“CENTER ON HALSTED: Chicago’s LGBTQ Community Center”</em>. Mickey glances over at Ian, still deep in conversation with the other EMT, and walks over to take a look at the shirts the Center has on display. As he combs through the shirts hanging on the rack, he sees a few short-sleeved tees with the center’s logo on them, a few shirts similar to the “EQUALITY” shirt Ian’s wearing, but to the left of the more basic shirts — he spots a heather purple tank top, a big grey up arrow screen printed on the front. Mickey can’t help but snort, and immediately grabs one for Ian. He continues looking, and the next shirt he sees, he bites back a grin and finds a medium, pulling it off the rack. Mickey shows the vendor the shirts he’s chosen and hands over two twenties and a five. </p><p>Before walking back to Ian, Mickey quickly pulls out his pocket knife and cuts the sleeves off of his shirt, and ducks between two vendor booths to change into it before he goes back to find Ian. He walks up to Ian and puts his arm around Ian’s waist, giving him a gentle squeeze.</p><p>“Yo, you find anything good over here?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah — I was just telling Zoe about that crazy shit with Paula. Got this cool bracelet, I guess you can also unravel it and the cord is strong enough to like, support a person in survival situations,” Ian tells him, twisting the bracelet around and showing Mickey. “Wait — that a new shirt?”</p><p>Mickey grins, nodding, looking down at his new shirt — a black tee with the words <em>“LOVE fucking WINS”</em> printed across the chest, a small rainbow heart next to the ‘love’.</p><p>“Mhm. May have picked somethin’ up for you, too,” he says, handing Ian the tank top. </p><p>Ian shakes out the shirt, holding it up in front of him to get a good look at it, and immediately bursts out in laughter. </p><p>“Oh my <em>god</em>, Mick. I love it, thank you.” Ian immediately pulls off the shirt he’s wearing, and slips the new tank top on. “How’s it look?”</p><p>“Real fuckin’ sexy, man.” </p><p>Ian beams at Mickey, grabs his and Mickey’s shirts and shoves them in his bag, and takes Mickey’s hand. “Wanna keep browsin’?”</p><p>“Yeah, actually — I saw this booth I wanted to check out, that okay?”</p><p>“Lead the way.” </p><p>Mickey smiles, a small smile just for him, his heart so fucking <em>full</em> of love, and squeezes Ian’s hand, as he leads him to the booth next to Center on Halsted’s.</p><p>“Wait, Mick — you know this is for nail painting, right?”</p><p>Mickey clears his throat quietly, nodding curtly. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”</p><p>“For… you?” Ian asks, cautiously. </p><p>“Is that such a fuckin’ problem? I just — I thought it’d be cool, maybe get ‘em done in black.” </p><p>Ian stops, turns to Mickey, and drapes his arms on Mickey’s shoulders.</p><p>“Hey. You could prance down the fuckin’ street in… in a dress and high heels for all I care, Mick. You wanna paint your nails? Then let’s go paint your fuckin’ nails, bitch.” </p><p>Mickey smiles and leans up, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. “Thanks. <em>Bitch</em>.”</p><p>Ian chuckles and drops one arm, leading Mickey up to the booth.</p><p>“Welcome! Happy pride, you two! Lookin’ to get some color on those nails?” </p><p>“Yeah, I am — you got black?” Mickey asks, looking at the big display of other colors on the table.</p><p>“Sure do, sweetness. Wanna come take a seat? Just need you to lather on some of that hand sanitizer, then place your hands flat on the table for me.”</p><p>Mickey nods, pumping out a small dollop of the hand sanitizer and rubbing it into his hands, sitting down and placing his hands on the small table. The nail artist smiles at  Ian, then grabs the bottle of black nail polish, giving it a quick shake before sitting down across from Mickey. </p><p>“You’re gonna look so hot with black nails, Mick,” Ian remarks, watching the nail artist paint the first few nails on Mickey’s right hand.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Cool it, Gallagher.”</p><p>Mickey takes a breath, mentally preparing himself. He doesn’t get why he’s so nervous — it’s not like it’s something permanent like the <em>multiple</em> tattoos he has scattered on his skin. It can wash off. He can do this. </p><p>The nail artist chuckles at Mickey and Ian’s banter, and taps on Mickey’s ring with their free hand.</p><p>“You two been married for long?”</p><p>“Nah, um — five months today, actually,” Mickey says softly. </p><p>They grin at Mickey, then up at Ian. “Well, congrats, boys. That’s really sweet.”</p><p>Mickey nods, flashing a small smile to his husband, who grins back at him. </p><p>“Just about done, here — just stick your hands underneath this little light here to dry the nail polish, and you’re all set!”</p><p>“Awesome, thanks so much,” Mickey replies, setting his hands underneath the dryer. </p><p>After the light goes off, Mickey removes his hands, inspecting the new paint on his nails. </p><p>“Hey, looks real good. I like it,” Ian tells him.</p><p>“Yeah. Me too. Hey, uh — how much I owe you?” Mickey turns to the nail artist, pulling out his wallet.</p><p>“Ten bucks, hon,” they reply, reaching down to put the polish back.</p><p>Mickey nods, pulling out two fives and passing it to them. “Thanks. ‘Preciate it.”</p><p>“No problem. You two have fun, and congrats again! Oh! You want a mini pride flag?”</p><p>Ian takes the little rainbow flag they’re holding out and immediately sticks it in his front right pocket.</p><p>“Sure, thanks!”</p><p>Mickey smiles as Ian hooks his left arm around his waist and gives him a soft squeeze.</p><p>“Proud of you for doin’ that. Seriously, it looks really good.”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t hate it either,” Mickey says with a chuckle, sliding his right hand into Ian’s back pocket. “Can we go grab some water? Fuckin’ hot out.”</p><p>Ian nods, and leads them over to one of the food stations, paying for two waters, and passes one to Mickey. After taking a big gulp, Mickey caps his water, and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the temporary tattoo they’d both gotten when they arrived. He looks it over once more, thinking about where he should apply it that's not his face.</p><p>“Hey… can you — d’you know how these things work?” Mickey waves the paper in Ian’s direction and takes a seat on the bench next to him.</p><p>“Yeah, Debs used to wear ‘em all the time when she was a kid. You want me to put it on you?” Ian asks, sitting down next to him.</p><p>Mickey chews his lip, thinking for a moment. He nods, passing the tattoo to Ian, silently pointing to his left bicep. Ian smiles at him and takes the tattoo, peels off the plastic covering and sticks it on Mickey’s arm. He grabs Mickey’s old shirt out of his bag and pours some water on it, and presses the damp cloth to the back of the tattoo for 30 seconds, slowly peeling the paper backing off.</p><p>“Don’t touch it for a sec — it’s still drying, ‘kay?”</p><p>Mickey nods and watches as Ian pulls out his own temporary tattoo, repeating the process on his right bicep. </p><p>“What do you think?” Ian asks.</p><p>“Hm. I dunno. Pretty fuckin’ gay, man,” Mickey says, giving Ian a sarcastic shrug.</p><p>“Fuck you, asshole.” Ian laughs, tossing the damp shirt back in the bag.</p><p>Mickey twists to look at the tattoo on his bicep, sucking in a deep breath as he stares at it. He was never the type of person to wear his feelings on his sleeve, but as he feels the barriers he spent a lifetime building up start crumbling just a little bit more, he thinks that maybe he can allow it. Not quite an everyday thing yet, he thinks. But it’s a start. Mickey shakes his head a bit, shaking off the slight daze, and sees Ian smiling at him softly. </p><p>“You glad we came today?”</p><p>“Yeah… thanks for convincin’ me to come. S’cool to see all this shit and everything.”</p><p>Ian nods and places his hand on Mickey’s thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. He suddenly reaches for his phone in his front pocket, and stops the couple in front of them.</p><p>“Hey — would one of you mind taking a picture of us?” Ian asks.</p><p>One of the girls nods, smiling, and takes Ian’s phone, who quickly clambers onto Mickey’s lap and pulls out the small pride flag from his other pocket.</p><p>“C’mon, man…” Mickey protests.</p><p>“Just — please, Mick?” Ian pleads, hooking an arm around Mickey’s neck.</p><p>Mickey grumbles to himself, wrapping his right arm around Ian’s waist, and rests his left arm across Ian’s legs. The girl who has Ian’s phone tells them to smile, and starts snapping a few pictures. Mickey doesn’t hear her, though — staring up at Ian, that squeezing feeling is back in his heart. He doesn’t realize they’ve stopped taking pictures until he feels Ian twist a bit to take his phone back. Mickey playfully shoves at Ian, mumbling something about his <em>‘bony ass diggin’ in’</em>, huffing a laugh under his breath. Ian climbs off, rolling his eyes, and starts swiping through the pictures the girl took of them. </p><p>“This one’s pretty cute, hm?” Ian turns his phone to show Mickey.</p><p>Mickey looks at the picture, another small smile finding its way across his face.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s — I like it.” He nods, rubbing a hand over Ian’s thigh.</p><p>“Anything else you wanna do, or you ready to head out?” Ian asks, standing up to put away his phone and flag. </p><p>“Kinda fuckin’ beat, actually. Good with you?” </p><p>Ian nods, grabbing their bag. “Sounds good.”</p><p>Mickey stands and reaches for Ian’s hand, threading their fingers together as they make their way to the exit. They walk in silence to the El, glancing over at the other occasionally with a smile and a quick squeeze of hands. </p><p>Thankfully it’s still early enough that the train isn’t crowded with tons of other people heading home, so they find two open seats together, both dropping down with a sigh. Ian quickly scoots away from Mickey slightly to give him room to comfortably rest his head on Mickey’s shoulder. He feels Ian lift the chain around his neck, the necklace he’d gotten earlier totally forgotten.</p><p>“You get this today?”</p><p>“Yeah — got it at that first place we stopped,” Mickey says, untucking the necklace and showing Ian the sodalite pendant.</p><p>“It’s cool, I like it. What is it?” </p><p>Mickey fishes around in his pocket for the paper the vendor had given him and hands it to Ian. He reads it quickly, and shifts to look over at Mickey, his face soft.</p><p>“I love it, Mick,” Ian says, pressing a gentle kiss to Mickey’s cheek. He shuffles back down, resting his head on Mickey’s shoulder again and closes his eyes.</p><p>Mickey takes a moment to just <em>breathe</em> and reflect on the day, on how lucky he feels. Looks over at his husband — <em>god</em>, that word really doesn’t feel like it will ever stop giving him that twist and tug in his gut — and thinks about how thankful he is to have wound up with someone like Ian. Someone who gets all his shit, and sticks by him through all of it. Thinks about how this is his <em>life</em>, and he gets to have people like Ian in it. How Ian is <em>his</em>. Ian, who tells him it’s okay if he’s not ready to wear his sexuality on his sleeve. Who teaches him about his community, who <em>shows</em> him his community, who tells him he’s not alone if he doesn’t want to be. <em>He’s allowed to have all of this</em>. Mickey absentmindedly reaches for the pendant and rubs the smooth stone with the pad of his thumb, closing his eyes and resting his head against Ian’s, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.</p><p>
  <em>Sodalite: Encourages verbalization of feelings. Enhances self-esteem, self-acceptance, and self-trust. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and here are some links!</p><p><a href="https://www.macys.com/shop/product/esquire-mens-jewelry-sodalite-pendant-necklace-in-sterling-silver-created-for-macys?ID=5324083">this is the necklace</a> i envisioned for mickey</p><p><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/711928581/waterproof-emt-firefighter-gay-pride?ga_search_query=emt&amp;ref=shop_items_search_3">this is the bracelet</a> ian gets at the EMT booth</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/ArtofOBSESSION/status/1273386153790472192?s=20">ian's outfit, mickey's nails, and the matching rainbow tattoos</a> brought to you by the ever-wonderful <a href="http://twitter.com/artofobsession">artofobsession</a> on twitter, and <a href="https://twitter.com/eIysianaurora/status/1271115984661864450?s=20">mickey's shirt</a> brought to you by <a href="https://twitter.com/eIysianaurora">eIysianaurora</a> on twitter!</p><p>thank you to the wonderful artists for giving me permission to use your art for inspiration, and hope you all enjoy it as well!</p><p>HAPPY PRIDE, Y'ALL!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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